‘Umm?’ Pausing, Jonathan turned towards her, his previous smile quickly being replaced with a scowl. ‘Miss Murray.’
‘I... umm... just wanted to...’ She stumbled over her words as he looked pointedly towards the school building in front of them.
‘I’m sorry. I’m in a hurry. Can this wait?’ Without waiting for an answer, he strode towards the building and yanked open the door, leaving Gemma standing in the playground.
Huh, so much for being pleasant today. What was it? That now they didn’t have a million parents and pupils standing beside them, he was in too much of a hurry to have a civil conversation? She spun on the spot and headed back towards the stall. Slipping behind it, she shoved her hands in her pockets and mumbled to Sophie. ‘Did you see that? That’s what I mean. He’s horrid.’
‘You didn’t thank him?’ Sophie passed over a prize to her customer.
‘Thank him? He didn’t even give me the time to utter two words to him. I told you he hates me. And it’s not even because of Alfie’s barking on that first night. He’s been downright rude to me the moment he walked through the school doors on his first day.’
‘Oh, Gemma. I’m sure it’s nothing personal. It just must be stressful. You know stepping into someone else’s shoes halfway through the school term and having to find his feet on the job.’ Sophie placed her hand on Gemma’s shoulder.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t think he deserves any excuses.’
‘No, but...’ Sophie paused as Florrie returned, clutching two cupcakes and a serviette with a slice of flapjack balanced on top.
‘They didn’t have any chocolate cracknels, Mummy, but Mrs Hightown said she’d make some for the next fete for you.’ Florrie passed her mum a cupcake before holding up the flapjack to Gemma. ‘She had flapjack, though.’
‘That’s great. Thanks, Florrie.’ Taking the serviette and flapjack, Gemma took a bite before lowering the flapjack to the serviette again and leaning in towards Sophie and lowering her voice. ‘You know what? I’ve had it with him. I’m going to go and give him a piece of my mind.’
‘Oh, I don’t think that’s such a...’ Sophie’s voice trailed off as Gemma turned on her heels, flapjack in one hand, the other clasped in a fist.
This was it. She wasn’t going to spend the rest of the school year working beneath him. The academy might think he was the bee's knees, but if the way he’d treated the school staff in the five days he’d been here was anything to go by, he was just a bully. One who would have a whole heap of resignation letters dropped on his desk before the term was out.
Pulling open the door into the building from the playground, she picked up her pace as she marched down the corridor towards the school foyer and the headteacher’s office. Whatheadteacher hid away in his office during a school event such as a spring fete, anyway? Didn’t he have any social skills? Yes, he’d pretended to back there, he’d put on a damn good show for the benefit of the parents, but that’s all it had been, hadn’t it? A show. He’d proved that the moment he’d cut her off mid-sentence a few minutes ago. Well, she wasn’t going to put up with it. She wasn’t going to put up with being treated like a piece of dirt on the bottom of his shoe. Without the teachers, teaching assistants, lunchtime supervisors, and cleaners, there would be no school for him to manage.
As she neared his office, she narrowed her eyes. She could feel a knot of anger ignite inside her, and she knew Sophie had been right; she shouldn’t tell him what she was about to, but she was just sick and tired of it. She’d had less to no sleep after another night on the sofa so His Highness could sleep. She was giving up her time here today, and so were all the parents and members of the PTA who were helping. Yes, it had been her he’d been so blasé with, but who’s to say he’d treated anyone else any better?
Pushing the door open, she clenched her fists as she stormed into his office. The sticky flapjack crumbling in her palm. ‘Mr Higgs, I’ve just about had enough of the way you’ve been treating me and fellow staff members this week. You’ve been beyond grouchy, and if you speak to members of our PTA or parents as you have done to me, then you’ll be left with a very lonely existence in a very quiet school.’
Silence.
‘You can sack me if you want but...’ Taking another breath in order to continue, Gemma paused as she took in her surroundings. This was the first time she’d been inside the headteacher’s office since he’d taken Mrs Norton’s job, and to say it looked different was an understatement. The desk had been pushed back against the far wall, and boxes, files andpaperwork covered the thin, dark green carpet tiles. Jonathan himself was kneeling on the floor, an open folder in front of him.
‘Now, if you’re offering, that would make my decision a lot easier.’ He mumbled as he pushed himself to standing.
‘What?’ Shaking her head, she bent down and picked up one of the files, focusing in on the photo paperclipped to the front. Adam Jarvis. What? Crouching down, she picked up another one, reading the label before placing it back onto the floor and reaching for another. Gemma Murray. Gripping it in one hand, she stood up again, waving it towards him. ‘What is this? Why have you got all our files laid out across the floor?’
Stepping forward, he snatched the file from her hand. ‘That’s confidential.’
‘That’smyfile.’ Without thinking about what she was doing, she snatched it back and held it against her chest. ‘Why are you looking through all our files?’
‘I don’t think it’s any of your...’
Looking wildly around, she realised the books he’d taken to scrutinise were lying in one corner, some closed, some open as though he’d been searching through the pages. Planning folders and reams of accounting spreadsheets covered the desk. It didn’t make any sense. Yes, he was new to the role of headteacher at their school, and anyone would expect some level of scrutiny, some level of getting to know the staff and the workings of the school, but this? This was a whole other level. This wasn’t normal. ‘What the hell is going on here?’
Looking down, he pinched the bridge of his nose before pointing to her hand. ‘Are you going to put that down or continue to drop crumbs all over my office?’
Frowning, she followed his gaze and unclenched her hand. The flapjack which Florrie had fetched for her was well and truly squished, leaving an oily mark on the serviette and crumbs filtering through her fingers. Walking across to the desk, sheplaced it down before holding her file up in front of her again. ‘What’s going on? And what did you mean by saying it would make your life easier if I was offering to leave?’
Walking across to his desk, he slumped into his chair.
As Gemma turned to face him, she looked at him properly for the first time since setting foot inside the office. Really looked at him. His skin was pale, shadows had formed beneath his eyes, and stubble covered his chin. He almost looked as though he’d aged ten years in five days. How hadn’t she noticed? She asked again, this time with less malice and more kindness in her tone. ‘What’s going on?’
Taking a deep breath, Jonathan let out a long sigh before leaning forward and clasping his hands in his lap, his eyes darting across the floor at all the paperwork. ‘I need to make cuts. The school’s running on empty.’
‘What?’ She whispered. What had he said?
